


Gruff 'n' Grim

by hgdoghouse



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M, Teddy Bears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hgdoghouse/pseuds/hgdoghouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie and Doyle discover some old friends</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gruff 'n' Grim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Barbara](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Barbara), [Trish and Amanda](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Trish+and+Amanda).



Despite his name, Teddy Gruff was a friendly, comfortable sort of bear. He had rich, dark fur, close-set ears, deep sapphire blue eyes and he had once looked after a small boy who had loved him very much.

That had been a long time ago but Teddy Gruff still missed his young charge dreadfully, remembering their whispered confidences exchanged at the dead of night and the small nose which would bury itself in his neck. A portion of fur in one spot had been quite worn away but Teddy Gruff hadn't minded; his small charge had been desperate for someone to love, who loved him.

Then, one night, everything had changed without warning. The sound of angry, adult voices had become louder than ever and Teddy Gruff had whispered reassurances to his young charge. That was the last thing Teddy Gruff remembered before he had been wrenched out of the snug bed they had been sharing and away from the small arm curved protectively around his middle. When he awoke he found himself up in the attic, heaped on a pile of broken toys. The funnel of the train engine that was pressed into his shoulder was an annoyance from the first.

Teddy Gruff was a philosophical sort of bear and he took his change of circumstances calmly, apart from worrying about what had become of his young charge. But he knew the loyalty which bound them; one day he would be found. He just hoped that day wouldn't be too long in coming.

While waiting to be rescued Teddy Gruff grew tired of staring up at the cobwebbed tiles of the roof. And until he got used to it the dust in the attic made him sneeze a great deal.

"Probably ruin my sinuses," he mourned thickly one day to a passing cockroach before he was shaken by another cataclysmic sneeze.

The dust was the least of his troubles. Teddy Gruff was jolly thankful for the protection of his dungarees and wellington boots, as well as his nice thick fur because the attic was draughty.

As the years went by the pale blue of his dungarees and Wellingtons grew faded and dusty, but his fur still glowed with rich, brown lights and his eyes were still an intense shade of blue. Otherwise he changed little, except that one leg of his dungarees became frayed where an enquiring mouse had nibbled at the cloth. Teddy Gruff had not objected to the intimacy, too much. It was lonely in the attic. The spiders never had time to stop and chat, they were too busy plotting where their next web should go, or what stitch it should be in. Except for the odd mouse he never saw a soul.

Then, one day, Teddy Gruff opened his eyes after a lengthy nap of a month or so (there really wasn't much else to do) when he saw a cat sitting above him, staring absently at his right foot.

"Good morning, Cat," said Teddy Gruff politely, because apart from the occasional lapse he was a well-behaved bear.

With a strangled shriek the cat leapt straight up into the air, stiff-legged with surprise, dislodging the pile of toys. Teddy Gruff found himself leaving the troublesome funnel rather precipitately.

"Gosh," he said. He felt a pang of regret that his young charge was not present to hear that it was not necessary to resort to basic Anglo-Saxon in moments of stress.

After a landing which threatened to reorder his stuffing, a wide beam spread across Teddy Gruff's face, despite the fact that he had banged his nose against a cracked window pane. He could see out into the street below him.

The change in Teddy Gruff was quite remarkable now that he had a new interest in life to sustain him until his young charge should find him. He had been so lonely and bored with nothing to do but stare at the spiders.

It did not take Teddy Gruff long to realise that the world had changed a great deal since he had seen it last. He began to be afraid that the change in his young charge would be just as great - why, he might not even recognise him!

Depressed, Teddy Gruff looked up from the street, glancing for the first time into the attic opposite him. The surprise of what he saw almost caused him to topple off the window sill.

"Bugger me," said Teddy Gruff. (This was, you understand, a moment of strain the like of which no bear should be asked to face.) "There's another bear. I wonder if we will be friends."

Quick to notice every detail about the slightly decadent-looking bear in the window across the street, Teddy Gruff hoped they would be friends with all his heart. He had never had a friend.

His nose pressed against the grimy window pane, Teddy Gruff offered a shy smile to the bear in the other window, his eyes seeming to crinkle at the corners.

For a moment there was no response. Teddy Gruff realised his presence must have surprised the other bear, who had obviously been in the window for some time. Then the bear seemed to recover, sneering back at him.

Teddy Gruff hoped he had imagined the gesture made by the slender paw which rested against the window pane.

"Oh," he murmured sadly. "I don't think he likes me."

 

oOo

 

Teddy Grim was a battered, belligerent bear. He had untidy pale-honey coloured fur, large ears (one lobe of which was partially chewed) and jade green eyes.

Teddy Grim had been in his attic for a long time. He could not remember exactly how he had come to be there but he knew the sooner he left it the happier he would be.

Teddy Grim had led a troubled life, knowing many homes, few of them kind, but he could dimly remember that once he had been happy.

One day, tired of hoping that one of the people down in the street would be his erstwhile charge, he became aware that he was under surveillance. Glancing coldly across the street he saw another bear watching him with a ridiculously hopeful expression on its handsome face.

"Bleeding hell," snarled Teddy Grim, who had been busy instructing his small charge in the art of verbal expression when they had been parted, "who the fuck does he think he is?"

Despite himself, Teddy Grim could not help noticing that the bear in the other window was extremely good-looking and possessed of a curiously infectious smile. Teddy Grim stopped his own grin of response just in time, offering a vulgar salute with his paw instead. But he wondered what the bear with the blue eyes was called.

"Probably some sodding awful name like Cedric," he told himself. But try as he might, his attention rarely left the bear in the opposite window.

oOo

Time passed.

oOo

Teddy Gruff felt more alone than ever, longing for someone to play with. He was certain that if only they could meet he and the bear in the window across the street would become great friends. But the honey-coloured bear continued to glower at him and as the months passed Teddy Gruff gave up hope.

He had come to know every ruffle of the other bear's fur by heart, something about the slender, battered figure making him persevere in his attempt to make friends.

The bear across the road was looking miserable today, although Teddy Gruff suspected that might have something to do with the ministrations of a large cat who had been sitting on him for most of the day

oOo

Teddy Grim was furious, and suffering rather a lot because he was allergic to cat hair. Muttering dire threats in between sneezes, he wished he could move. Oh how he wished he could move. He would show this cat - and the bear in the window across the street - the sort of bear he had been in his prime. Many a tussle he and his young charge had enjoyed, as his battered face could bear witness. One cheek had never been the same but his young charge had sewn it up as neatly as he could and shown so much remorse that Teddy Grim had forgotten to swear while it was being done.

He scowled at the portion of ginger fur in front of his nose and sneezed wetly, ruffling the cat's fine hair. Teddy Grim gave a grin of malevolent satisfaction; he had no intention of apologising.

He did not want to talk to the cat, who was a haughty creature who pretended she did not understand what he was saying. But he did so long to talk to someone. In particular he wished he could talk to the immaculate bear who lived across the road.

"Not that his looks are doing him much good now," muttered Teddy Grim to himself. "I bet he's been sitting there as long as I've been here. He's beginning to look a bit shabby where the sun's fading his suit." Instead of feeling vindictively glad at the other bear's plight Teddy Grim felt sad instead. The bear in the window opposite was such a handsome bear, with a smile that... It had been a long time since those blue eyes had crinkled into a smile.

For the first time Teddy Grim wished that he had not made that vulgar gesture of rejection all those years ago. He tried to see what the other bear was doing but the cat was blocking his view.

"Sodding mog," he hissed venomously.

The cat gave him a look of disdain, trampled over his flat, honey-coloured belly and strolled away.

Still wincing as he waited for his stuffing to readjust itself, Teddy Grim stared fixedly out of the window. Eventually the bear in the other window looked up, still wearing the same, ridiculously hopeful expression. Unable to stop himself, Teddy Grim smiled.

The difference it made to his face was quite remarkable.

 

Dizzy under the impact, Teddy Gruff almost toppled over before he thought to beam back at the other bear.

 

 

Teddy Gruff and Teddy Grim were so busy making friends that they did not notice all the excitement taking place in the street below.

 

 

"I told you there wouldn't be anything up here," said Doyle smugly as he watched Bodie narrowly miss putting his foot through the plaster. "I dunno why we came up here in the first place, it reeks of cat's pee."

Bodie gave the expressively wrinkling face a patient look. "We came up here because you couldn't be bothered clearing up the loose ends and we needed some excuse to keep Lewis sweet. Strewth, it is a bit strong, innit. If Williamson's been hiding out here for long he'll have caught something nasty - apart from your knee in his balls. Come on then, they should have finished down below."

"In a minute," said Doyle, his manner absent as he stepped with care on the creaking joists, his eyes accustomed to the gloom now. "There's something over there. Yeah, I thought as much. There's an old Hornsby train engine up here." His tone made it clear he would not easily be moved - or not without said engine. "It only needs a bit of soldering," he added, as he turned the engine in his hands.

"You never grew up, that's your trouble," complained Bodie. But it was noticeable that he picked his way over with some speed.

"Gerroff, I saw it first," said Doyle, fending him off with a jab of his elbow. He grinned as Bodie began to sift through the accumulated junk. Most of it was torn and dusty cardboard boxes containing broken toys and yellowing comics.

"‘Chum’!" exclaimed Bodie with joy.

"True, but here isn't the time or place, mate. We're supposed to be checking this attic for explosives, not going in for declarations of undying devotion."

"Berk," said Bodie, oblivious to the faint note of bitterness in Doyle's voice. "I was talking about the Annual called 'Chum'. You know?" He went very still, his expression distant. "What address is this again?"

Doyle told him.

"Yeah, I thought it must be," murmured Bodie, almost to himself.

Realising Bodie had forgotten he was here, Doyle crouched down beside him, placing one hand on Bodie's arm. "Is something wrong?" he asked quietly.

Shrugging free of the touch, Bodie turned over the heavy dark red cloth cover of the large Annual. He sneezed as the dust rose about them before pointing a grubby index finger at the rounded inscription on the flyleaf.

"This was mine," he said, unnecessarily.

"I can see that," replied Doyle, his voice gentle. In those days each name had been written with the labourious pride of ownership, complete with the full address, right down to 'Universe'. "You were what, seven? This is your old house?"

His eyebrows drawn together, Bodie nodded. "Till my old man caught up with us. He didn't stay long. Just gave himself enough time to half-kill my new uncle, wallop me mum and chuck out my toys. He found me in bed with me teddy, you see - reading. It was like that was the last straw. He wasn't rearing any bleeding Nancy boy. Christ, but I hated the bastard."

"It's a shame he didn't go into the prediction business," said Doyle, after a moment. One arm around his partner, he hugged Bodie close, releasing him before he could be rejected.

"Mmm." Warmth returning to his expression as he left the past behind, Bodie gave a familiar broad grin. "I never thought of that. It's a wonder I didn't take it up years ago just to spite the old bastard."

"No, it's not. You hadn't met me then." Doyle upended a large wooden box, knocked out the dust and spiders and began to cough. "Strewth. I hope we don't catch anything. Some of this dust has probably been around since Victoria's time. Right, let's get started."

"What, up here?" said Bodie primly. He barely avoided the fist which floated past his ear.

"Cretin. Though keep that thought in mind for later. No, as this is your stuff we'll take it with us."

"But - I can't prove it." Looking around with longing, Bodie's expression became distinctly acquisitive when he saw another two Annuals and a pile of yellowing Beano comics. "What the hell will Cowley say?" he asked weakly.

Packing with neat efficiency, Doyle gave him a look of exasperation. "Well I'm not going to mention it to him, so unless you were planning to he'll never know." His expression softening, he rose to stand in front of his partner. "Do you want this stuff or not?"

Bodie twitched, fidgeted and gave his nose a wipe on the back of his hand before giving a shamefaced nod. "Yeah. There's some happy memories amongst this lot."

"Well that's that sorted then." Doyle gave him a quick pat. "And tonight, when you're snuggled up next to me in bed, you can tell me all about them."

As he returned to the packing Doyle's movements were a little jerky and over-emphasised. He hadn't seen that lost look in the back of those blue eyes for over three months and had kidded himself that he was enough to have dispelled it. And maybe he would, in time. If Bodie learnt to trust him enough to open up fully about the closed portion of his life. In the meantime he was buggered if he was going to allow the memory of some long-dead-tyrant undo what little of worth he had achieved.

He took great care over packing the things which had once meant so much to Bodie, trying to imagine the child who had grown into the man in front of him.

"There's nothing to tell you," said Bodie, who had been fidgeting aimlessly for some time. "Besides, there's no reason you should be interested in some teddy bear I had as a kid." His voice was cool and a little remote after his lapse.

Staring at his grimy hands, Doyle willed his voice not to shake. "You don't think so?" Five years of working with Bodie, three months of living with him and he still hadn't been able to make Bodie understand his own worth. Or maybe it was simply that Bodie couldn't be bothered.

"Ray?" There was a whisper of sound as Bodie crouched beside him.

Knowing his eyes were ridiculously damp, and pierced by the knowledge of his own failure, Doyle tried to look busy and found his hands taken in a warm, comforting clasp.

"I've put my foot in it, haven't I?" said Bodie ruefully. "I'll save most of my reminiscences for tonight then, but about that bear I had. I called him Grim, by the way, because he had this terrible scowl on him. A bit like the one you're wearing now. He had a lot in common with you, now I think about it. Scruffy and dissolute-looking, skinny but nice to cuddle all the same. He even had green eyes. I've always had a thing about green eyes. I wouldn't have swopped him for worlds. Him and me went through a lot together and I put him through hell but I loved him ragged. The thing is," he added softly, "I didn't love him half as much as I love you. Maybe I never thought to mention it before. Did you know you've got a smut on your face?" he added, his fingers holding Doyle's in a bruising grip.

But it wasn't until he leant forward to lick away the smut and tasted salt that Bodie thought to turn the bowed head to the light.

His smile wavering, Doyle shook his head. "I must be tired," he said huskily. Wiping his running nose on the back of his hand, he inadvertently redistributed some of the dirt. "I always get sentimental when I'm tired."

His fingers threaded through dusty curls, Bodie gave a gusting sigh, then leant forward to kiss that unsteady mouth with a telling tenderness.

"Lying sod. You always have been sentimental where I'm concerned. Though you bust a gasket trying to pretend otherwise. Don't try and con the con man. No more hiding it away like it's something to be ashamed of either," Bodie added, giving Doyle's self-conscious face a shrewd look. "While we're snuggled up tonight it wouldn't hurt for you to start chatting either, would it? Then, if you're good, I'll let you read my ‘Beanos’."

"Oh, I'll be good," Doyle promised him.

"You always are, for me. And you've got more dirt on your face than when I started to clean you up," Bodie discovered wryly.

"I think it must be your giving nature. It's lucky there are no mirrors up here." Giving Bodie a friendly nudge with his shoulder, Doyle returned to sorting through broken mangles and ancient radios in case there should be any other of Bodie's possessions lying around.

Rounding a corner, he paused on finding the tiny window.

"You said you called that bear of yours Grim," he called.

"That's right."

"Scruffy and dissolute?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"He wouldn't be going bald in a couple of places, would he?"

"Well, yeah. But how - ?" Coming up behind Doyle Bodie made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. "And where the hell," he said severely to the battered face of the bear Doyle handed him, "have you been?" Supremely unselfconscious, he grinned at his erstwhile companion in crime.

"See that?" he gestured to a lumpy cheek, stroking it with gentle forefinger. "I did that to him."

"He's survived, that's the main thing," said Doyle comfortably. Perched on the windowsill, his back to the light, he watched the incongruous couple, Grim securely held in one capable hand.

"It's funny how things work out," he mused lazily. "You're not the only one who lived round this neck of the woods when they were a kid. We could only have missed one another by a couple of years."

That gained Bodie's full attention as he stared into another pair of green eyes. "You're kidding. Where d'you live?"

"I can't remember exactly. We moved so often it made me dizzy and we always moved on fast, half a step ahead of the bailiffs. I could only have been about four or five. I remember the trauma of losing my Ted, though. Beautiful he was. And new. It wasn't until years later that my sister owned up where she'd got him. She'd nicked him from Hamleys. Straight up. I should have guessed really. We didn't have the cash for luxuries like him."

Realising he had just been told more about Ray's family in five minutes than he had learnt in five years, Bodie was almost afraid to say anything in case he broke the spell.

"I can't imagine you with a teddy bear," he said, trying and failing to picture a five-year-old version of Doyle.

Watching him at it, Doyle gave a knowing grin. "You don't want to, mate. I was a pathetic-looking kid. All knee caps and ears and scabs on my knees. That bear meant a lot to me then, what with my old man being away so much. Liz did her best but she couldn't have been more than fifteen herself." He shrugged. "It's funny, I haven't thought of this - him - for years. I cried for bloody weeks when he got left behind when we had to scarper quick."

He tweaked a battered, honey-coloured ear of the bear Bodie held. "I see you started some things early. Come on. It's time to get back to work. You take him, I'll bring the box. And don't start, this is a once-only offer. You're the brawn, I'm the - "

"Seven stone weakling who gets sand kicked in his face."

Laughing and scuffling, they left the attic.

 

 

Teddy Gruff only realised something was going on when he suddenly saw his new-found friend being scooped up from the window ledge and sat in the crook of a powerful-looking arm. But he knew, just as if his friend had been able to tell him, that bear and charge had been reunited. His eyes shone with joy at seeing the clear delight printed on both faces.

It wasn't until the two figures moved away from the window, taking the honey-coloured bear with them that he realised the price of his new friend's joy.

And he didn't even know his name.

Feeling very alone, Teddy Gruff closed his brilliant blue eyes.

 

 

"Strewth, I think I ruptured something," grunted Doyle as he deposited the large box overflowing with comics into the boot of the car. Closing the boot, he perched on the back.

"No stamina, that's your trouble," said Bodie without sympathy.

"Cheers. Hang on, where has whatshisname got to?"

Doyle belatedly followed the direction of his partner's pointing finger. The bear sat in the centre of the back seat of the car, scowling ferociously ahead of him.

"He doesn't look too thrilled with life, does he?" remarked Doyle, glancing from the bear back to the small attic window. "This has got to be an improvement. There isn't much to miss here."

"Too right. While this must have been a posh area in its day all it's fit for now is the demolition men."

"Yeah. Come on, Superman. Stop flexing your muscles and get in the car."

On the point of doing as he was told, Bodie looked up, conscious of being under surveillance. Automatically scanning for danger, he relaxed when he saw nothing untoward but the sense of being watched remained. Rechecking the terrain, his eyes widened as his gaze flicked higher and he saw the tiny face pressed against a grimy window pane.

"Poor little bugger," he muttered to himself, before he leant back against the side of the car, arms folded as he studied his partner.

"Your bear," he said. "He wouldn't happen to have dark fur by any chance?"

A reminiscent gleam lit Doyle's eyes. "Yes, he did, as it happens. He was a sort of rich Bournville colour, with the bluest eyes and fur so thick you could bury your fingers in it. Or it was until I got hold of him. He had this bald patch where I used to - " Belatedly becoming aware that he was talking to himself, Doyle gave his partner's retreating back a quizzical look.

"Well you did ask. Bodie, that house is derelict. What the hell - ?"

Resigned to the fact that today had undergone a radical change from the moment they had entered the attic, Doyle hauled himself out of the car. Bodie would probably let him in on the secret in due course. On the point of crossing the road to go after him, Doyle paused and turned back to the car.

"And don't you go starting anything you shouldn't," he told the occupant, his tone severe.

He knew he must be cracking up when he could have sworn the bear grinned at him. The incident went out of his mind when he looked up to see Bodie standing at the attic window, gesturing for him to stay put.

 

Teddy Grim wasn't at all offended at having been abandoned by his charge. He had seen who else had appeared at the side of the car, smiling in at him.

 

Doyle glanced self-consciously behind him, to where they had parked the car, then back to the grimy rear entrance to CI5.

"Are we going to leave them in there then?"

"Sure."

"What if anyone sees them?"

Bodie gave him a grin of pure affection. It wasn't often he saw Ray ill-at-ease but he was definitely twitchy, a haunted expression on his face.

"Relax," he said, one hand in the small of his partner's back as he steered him firmly into the building.

"It's all right for you," said Doyle without rancour. "You weren't the one who stood in the middle of the soddin' road kissing him."

A passing secretary gave a swift double take, met Bodie's bland smile and continued on her way, half-convinced she must have misheard.

"No, I wasn't," Bodie agreed gravely, "but unless you're keen to advertise the fact I should shut up about it until we're out of here. I know what's bugging you."

Doyle hunched his shoulders defensively but a reluctant grin had appeared.

"You're worried that someone's going to spot them," continued Bodie.

"No, I'm not," contradicted Doyle, with a serenity that commanded belief as he drifted up the first staircase.

Reaching out, Bodie held him back. "You're not?"

"Nah, course not. Look, mate, would you fancy tackling either of us on the subject of two teddy bears?" Doyle pulled a comical face and watched his partner concede the point. "There we are then."

"So what is bugging you about them?" Bodie pursued.

The hunted look returned to Doyle's face.

"I - " Shrugging, Doyle trailed off into silence.

The stairwell was deserted so Bodie gave him an encouraging pat on the rump, his hand lingering longer than he had intended. "Come on. It can't be so bad you can't tell me. Can it?"

Doyle met the guileless blue eyes and shook his head.

"Turn it off," he advised. "This is me, remember? OK, total honesty. And if you laugh - What am I saying, of course you'll laugh."

Well and truly hooked by this time Bodie backed him into a corner of the stairwell and held him there. "Will you just tell me," he commanded, with none too convincing menace.

"It's them," Doyle explained, with a quick look around to ensure no one was within earshot. "Gruff 'n' Grim."

"I'd gathered that much. Will you get to the point?"

"All right, all right, keep your wig on. It's just that I - Well, the thing is, I reckon they've got a thing going," Doyle muttered in an embarrassed rush, looking everywhere but at his partner.

He thought Bodie would be sick at one point, he laughed so much.

"Knew you'd react this way," grumbled Doyle, but without any sting.

Bodie tried and failed to find a look of gravity. "Must be gratifying to be right for once. I think you've lost your marbles," he said, when he finally recovered enough breath to spare for speech.

"I'm telling you, Bodie."

Recognising the stubborn, bulldog expression Doyle acquired when he was determined to solve a puzzle, Bodie sighed. He'd known the day had been going too well.

"You sure you didn't bump your head up in that attic?" he inquired with poorly disguised hope.

Doyle nudged him with his elbow but there was more amused resignation on his face now. "Can't blame you for not believing me. Trust me, mate, I don't want to believe me either. But I'm prepared to put money where my mouth is."

"And how - exactly - are you planning to prove this theory of yours?" asked Bodie with the deepest suspicion.

"We left them sitting in opposite corners of the back seat of the car, right?"

Agreeing with his partner so far, Bodie nodded.

"Don't overwhelm me with support, will you?"

"I'll fight against it," Bodie promised him, his face under control now.

"All right, Doubting Thomas. Ten quid says the bears will have moved position by the time we get back," challenged Doyle.

"Make it twenty. I've seen this shirt I fancy."

"You're on."

Shaking his head, Bodie followed his partner into Cowley's room. Once in there he found himself trying to glance out of the window which overlooked the car park more than once. Not that he thought there was anything in it. Really.

 

 

"Mine's changed," said Teddy Gruff sadly. "Grown up."

"I wouldn't exactly call mine a midget," said Teddy Grim, but his scowl was a poor imitation of what he was capable of.

"The thing is, they don't need us now. And I need to be needed."

"Bears do." Teddy Grim cleared his throat. "I'm not much to look at, I know but - "

"Yes you are," said Teddy Gruff before he could finish speaking.

"Are you always going to bleeding well interrupt a bear?" demanded Teddy Grim.

Teddy Gruff was looking smug. "Quite probably. And don't say 'bleeding', it's vulgar."

What Teddy Grim said next was downright coarse but because there was a wide, contented smile on his face when he said it, Teddy Gruff let it pass. He had plenty of time to work on his friend. Besides, he'd always wondered if bears could do that.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Written September 1984 for three teddy bear-loving friends
> 
>  
> 
> Published in _HG Collected 2_


End file.
